


Used Car Lot At The Edge Of Town

by TypicalCampbell



Category: Gravity Falls
Genre: Bedtime Stories, F/F, F/M, Future Fic, Gen, Not really focused on the shipping, horror story
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-04-09
Updated: 2016-04-09
Packaged: 2018-06-01 03:09:12
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 670
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6498421
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TypicalCampbell/pseuds/TypicalCampbell
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>You want to hear a scary story? Actually, I think I have just the one.</p><p>This story is about a small logging town, up in the middle of the woods in Oregon. It’s actually quite a lot like this one….</p><p> The town itself is known for its.. unusual wildlife, and bizarre phenomenon.<br/>But perhaps the most unnerving thing about the town, however, is the old used car lot on its edge. At first glance, the lot seems like nothing special. Just twelve rusting cars, with price tags that get lowered or exchanged every couple of weeks But beneath it's exterior is something strange. Something out of a nightmare</p><p>(just a  short one shot that I had to get out of my brain)</p>
            </blockquote>





	Used Car Lot At The Edge Of Town

You want to hear a scary story? Actually, I think I have just the one.

This story is about a small logging town, up in the middle of the woods in Oregon. It’s actually quite a lot like this one….

The town itself is known for its.. unusual wildlife, and bizarre phenomenon. Scientists and government agencies have investigated the town many times, but none ever seem to come up with any evidence for the claims, and they walk away empty handed, or end up settling in town.

Perhaps the most unnerving thing about the town, however, is the old used car lot on its edge. At first glance, the lot seems like nothing special. Just twelve rusting cars, with price tags that get lowered or exchanged every couple of weeks. Occasionally, a new car or two will end up there, probably bought at auction or from a foreclosure sale.

At second glance, one might notice that, none of the cars ever seem to get purchased. Not a single one. In fact, residents of the town all seem to buy their cars from several towns over. It’s not that the cars are bad, some of them are actually quite nice. It’s something about the salesman.

The proprietor is a typical salesman. A tad greasy looking, not exactly easy on the eyes, but he has his own brand of charm and charisma. In another town, he might do quite well. Here, no one ever walks past the sidewalk on the edge of the lot. 

The older folks all walk straight past, never letting themselves meet his gaze as he stands there day after day, calling out about how great his deals are. How low the price will be. They just hang their heads and whisper quietly “Never Mind all that.”

The younger kids, the ones that weren’t there for the hectic summer when the salesman first arrived, will often stare at him for a moment, challenging themselves and their friends to go in and talk to him, to ask him about his deals. None ever seem to stay long once they see his eyes. They’re an odd color. Sort of a dying, jaundiced yellow, with a disturbing spark of life buried somewhere deep within. 

Once, a man from out of town who was on his way through on a trip to Washington found a car he liked, and decided to go talk to the salesman. He walked onto the lot, haggled for a while, and eventually bought one of the cars, shaking the owner’s hand vigorously. He never came out, and the car disappeared without a trace, or any sign of a tow truck..

The next day, there was a new salesman. He looked eerily similar to the stranger. Same hair, same build, right down to the same freckles on his nose. It was all the same, except for the eyes. They were yellow.

 

Both of the twin girls were staring at their father in fearful disbelief, huddled under a blanket together

“Dad… that’s not in the Falls, is it?” He chuckled, running a hand through each of their their blond curls that they’d inherited from their mother. 

“Of course not Stella, it’s just a scary story. Now you and Ella need to get to sleep. Aunty Mabel and Aunty Wendy are coming over early tomorrow just to see you.” He tucked them in and kissed each little forehead. His wife was standing just outside the door.

“Did you need to tell them That story, Dip?”

“Relax, Paz. Neither of them is going anywhere near Cipher’s wheels any time soon. And when It’s time for them to get a car, I’m teaching them to drive in the Stan-Mobile anyway. That’s how I learned!”

“You are NOT letting them anywhere near that Death Trap! That thing was ancient when we were kids.” 

“Alright, alright, you win as always.” He winked, and lowered his voice “Now, what say we go have some fun before the house is full of little red headed kids tomorrow?”


End file.
